Black, Grey and White
by water-lily-43175
Summary: The only things they have in common are their surname and Hogwarts house. They look different, they act differently, and they view the theory of blood superiority and Voldemort's ideals differently. And now, the Black sisters are here, to tell you their s
1. Black

Summary: The only things they have in common are their surname and Hogwarts house. They look different, they act differently, and they view the theory of blood superiority and Voldemort's ideals differently. And now, the Black sisters are here, to tell you their stories.

_SPOILER WARNING: DEATHLY HALLOWS_

_A/N: Dolohov is the only Death Eater who, in canon, assists in the deaths of the Prewett brothers. I went out on a whim with that one. Also, it's not canon that Bellatrix killed Marlene McKinnon, Edgar Bones or Ted Tonks - though it is canon that she killed Tonks - but instead, that is my twist on the story._

_**Black: Bellatrix's Story**_

How?

That's all I can think.

How did she do it?

How did that blood traitor wench, Molly Prewett Weasley, manage to defeat _me,_ Bellatrix Black Lestrange, the Dark Lord's best lieutenant?

It must have been a fluke. There is no chance on this earth that I could possibly have been defeated by a Prewett.

Then again, her brothers did put up a good fight, all those years ago.

Gideon and Fabian, the redhead twins. It was shortly after they left Hogwarts that I succeeded in killing them - admittedly, Rodolphus, Rabastan, Antonin Dolohov and Augustus Rookwood were there too, but I did most of the work, taking them both down at the same time. The Dark Lord had rewarded me well when he learned of what I had done…

I had certainly never expected Prewett to be able to hold her own in a duel against _me_. Then again, it was obviously a fluke that she was able to kill me - she caught me off my guard, after all … I'd been easy on her, taking pity. I knew she didn't have a chance … she just got in a good shot, caught me at a weak angle, that was all…

But I suppose she is proof that one should never come between a mother and her children.

All my life, I have housed the beliefs that Muggles and Mudbloods are scum. Why shouldn't I? It's perfectly true, and everyone knows it. They view us as freaks, they hunt us down, tie us to stakes and burn us … they should be kneeling at our feet, worshipping us. We are the superior race. They are inferior, and do not deserve to feel otherwise. Mudbloods do not deserve to have the powers that we purebloods have … they have stolen their magic from worthy people, who _do_ deserve the wonders of magic, and the power to use it in the correct ways.

Of course, you come across families that believe otherwise … the Potters, Longbottoms, Weasleys, McKinnons, Boneses and Prewetts are six examples of this. They are just pathetic excuses for wizards and witches, as bad as Muggles and Mudbloods themselves. They cavort with Mudbloods and Muggles on a daily basis … take Arthur Weasley as an example. He used to work in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. Puhlease. Those good-for-nothing filthy worthless wastes of space deserve all that's coming to them, and nothing less.

But the Black family, the mighty Black family, is one of the most honoured and noted families of the century, and quite rightly so. Our family houses many magnificent people, who have done wonders for the Dark Lord's cause, and before him, Grindelwald's cause.

Like all families, however, ours has seen a few outcasts, though they have always been dealt with quickly. Take my sister, Andromeda. She married a filthy Mudblood, Ted Tonks, and even went on to have a child with him! She was disowned, of course. Honestly, how she could even think him worthy of her attention, let alone of being her husband, and as for giving birth to his spawn (who, incidentally, was sorted into _Hufflepuff_, of all houses) … it makes me shiver even to think of it.

Then we have my ever so _wonderful_ cousin, Sirius. Wonderful? Ha! Everything but. He always did befriend Muggles, the idiotic blood traitor. And then, off he goes to Hogwarts, and gets sorted into _Gryffindor_. The house of blood traitors and Muggle lovers. And, sure enough, who does he befriend, but James Potter and Remus Lupin! _James Potter_, son of the biggest Muggle-loving couple I have ever come across, and who married a mudblood? _Remus Lupin_, the half-blooded, half-breed werewolf? It doesn't even bear thinking about. At least he had the sense to befriend Peter Pettigrew, who became a Death Eater himself … but that gormless idiot didn't manage to influence Sirius one bit.

It soon became obvious that Sirius was a lost cause. He was blasted off the family tree by Aunt Walburga the moment he ran off to the Potters'. And I had the honour of finishing him off. One of my greatest triumphs, if I do say so myself…

I've always been taught that Muggles and Mudbloods are scum. I can't remember a single day that Father didn't hammer it into my head that they were inferior to us. I fully agreed with him. He also taught me that I would marry once I'd left Hogwarts, and they would choose my husband. I was to have children with him, and this would keep the pureblood line going.

I didn't really get on with Narcissa. She always was the hopeless, quiet, romantic type. She tended to follow the lead of others, never standing up for herself and what she believed in. She believed that people married for love, and that children were proof of this love. That was a belief that originated from those soppy romance novels she read.

Andromeda, on the other hand, was my best friend in childhood. The two of us were so alike … both bold, born leaders, not afraid to stand up for what we believed in. Yet where I was reckless, she was rational, and because of that, the two of us just fitted together, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Wherever one of us was, the other would be found not far off. It was always us two: Bella and Dromeda. Dromeda and Bella. Many people believe that Death Eaters cannot love, but I have loved in my life. I loved my sister Andromeda more than anyone else in the world. She was my rock, my companion, and I was never without her.

Of course, when I was eleven, I had to leave for Hogwarts. I was excited; obviously I was - finally, a chance to perform magic openly, to be able to show off about what I already knew, to have people fall at my feet because I was a Black … of course they would. Who wouldn't? Everyone worshipped the Black family. We were - and still are - a mightily superior family.

But the one thing I wasn't looking forward to, the one thing I dreaded, was leaving Dromeda behind. We had never been apart before, and I was worried that she would find it hard without me at home. She would only have Narcissa as company, and the two were like chalk and cheese…

But off I went, confident that I'd make … not friends, but acquaintances … with other Slytherins. For of course I'd be a Slytherin. There was no question about it … I was, and always will be, a Slytherin through and through.

I met many worthy people during my first few years at Hogwarts; people who became my fellow Death Eaters once we left school. These included my future husband, Rodolphus Lestrange, Lucius, the Carrows, Yaxley, Dolohov, Rookwood … people _worthy_ of knowing.

Andromeda started her First Year at Hogwarts as I started my Third. I was really looking forward to introducing her to the others in Slytherin, and vice versa … I was very proud to have a younger sister who looked up to me. She, of course, was in Slytherin too, and soon became impressed with the name I had made for myself at Hogwarts.

At first, she behaved very well, making friends with all the right people, becoming one of Sluggy's favourites … but soon, she began overstepping the line. By my Fifth Year, she was talking with Gryffindors. The Ravenclaws, I could handle - some of them were honourable purebloods themselves - but _Gryffindors_?

Unfortunately, it was a while before I could talk to Dromeda - Narcissa had started Hogwarts, and Mother wanted me to look after her. But my chance soon came … I will never forget that day … the day when my relationship with Dromeda changed forever…

"_What are you doing, consorting with such blood traitor filth?"_

"_Don't call them that! They're nice people, Bella!"_

"_Nice? _Nice_? They're disgusting, unworthy, filthy blood traitors and Mudbloods! The Black family never consorts with people like them! They're not even worthy of our glare upon them, let alone your friendship! Ditch them now, Dromeda. They're not good for you-"_

"_Oh, stop talking about things you don't know about, Bellatrix. There's no difference between them and me. Just keep out of my business."_

With that she stormed away. It was the first time Dromeda had ever called me Bellatrix. That killed me inside, because I knew I was losing her.

So I did the first thing that came to my mind.

I went up to Dromeda's _boyfriend_, that filthy Mudblood Ted Tonks, and told her that I'd been sent to tell him he was dumped. He looked crushed, the pathetic fool … he was never worthy to even ask her out. It served him right.

But Dromeda wasn't happy. She wasn't happy at all.

"_I HATE YOU, BELLATRIX BLACK!"_

Those words have haunted me ever since.

She hated me. My sister, my best friend, hated me. And all I had been doing was looking out for her. _I_ had her best interests at heart, even if she didn't…

I made a vow then to never love anyone, whether it was friendly love, sisterly love or true love. All love did was hurt people; what was the point? Love made people weak anyway. It had taken me a week to get over Andromeda's words. And falling in love with Lucius had made Narcissa a hopeless wreck… it just wasn't worth it.

After my argument with Andromeda, I was even more determined to hurt the blood traitors and Mudbloods that had torn my sister away from me. I threw myself into my Dark Arts studies, and became determined to join the Dark Lord.

I also turned my concentration to Narcissa, making sure that she would not turn out the same way as Andromeda did. And sure enough, she made me proud of her, by befriending other respectable people. Admittedly, her obsession for Lucius irked me somewhat, but I could not help that - and at least he was a pureblood, not Mudblood filth like that Tonks guy who had his hands all over my other sister - for he had taken Andromeda back.

Finally, the day I returned home after my Sixth Year, my dream came true. The Dark Lord burned his mark upon my left forearm. It hurt rather a bit, but I never once cringed. I like pain. And such a beautiful mark it was … and final proof of my devotion to the Dark Lord and his cause.

A small part of me hoped that Andromeda would be proud of me, for what I had done, but when she found out, her words were less than pleasing…

"_You've really disappointed me, Bellatrix. I never thought you'd sink so low."_

Merlin, had she changed. A few years before, she'd have been proud of me … I felt so angry with both myself and her when she told me what she thought. I'd rather she'd yelled at me, instead of tell me in that cold, quiet voice of hers how disappointed she was. It was a complete blow, and at that point, all hope I had that Andromeda would come back to the right side dissipated.

Of course, Mother and Father were disgusted with her for her actions, and shunned her all summer. But she wasn't disowned … that was to come later.

The Dark Lord began tutoring me privately in Dark magic that summer. It was an amazing experience … every lesson, we would hunt down a Muggle, and I would perform Dark spells on it. The Cruciatus curse always was my favourite … watching someone writhe on the floor in pain … screaming for mercy … knowing that I had the power to cause someone this pain …

The Imperius curse was another of my favoured curses. It was always amusing, watching Muggles jumping off cliffs, drowning themselves, hanging themselves … I once ordered a Muggle to cut itself open. It was pure entertainment, to say the least.

I never really liked the Killing curse. Oh, don't get me wrong, killing people gave me such a rush of adrenaline … and a sense of power … I loved it, but there was no pain involved. I wanted to inflict pain upon my victims, and the Killing curse just never did the job for me. So I stuck to my Cruciatus, and tortured my victims before killing them.

I will always remember the last time I saw Andromeda. It was my last day at Hogwarts. She came up to me, with that good-for-nothing boyfriend of hers, and told me, in an icy voice, that she hoped I was happy with myself, because she certainly wasn't.

By that point, though, nothing she said to me could hurt me. I didn't give a damn about Andromeda any more. She was no longer my sister.

My parents betrothed me to Rodolphus shortly after we left Hogwarts. It was always the fashion to marry into other pureblood families, to earn more respect. I never loved Rodolphus … goodness, I couldn't stand the man. I put my foot down firmly when it came to children … I didn't care if Rodolphus wanted an heir. I was not going to allow myself to be hampered by a bratty, screaming child.

Having left Hogwarts, I was able to do more for the Dark Lord's cause, and therefore began to earn his trust and respect. I was free, free from the chains that bound me to the castle, free from the watchful eyes of the teachers, free to do as I pleased, free to follow my Lord, a proud follower. The missions he gave me became gradually more important and he rewarded me well, when I succeeded.

One of my greatest achievements was bringing down the McKinnon family. The Marlene bitch was a fair dueller, and determined to stand up for what i _she /i _ believed … utter filth, all of it … but, of course, with my skill and expertise, I was able to bring her down.

I was also proud of my success in killing Edgar Bones and his family. He, too, was a very determined dueller, but I managed to defeat him. The Order of the Phoenix arrived too early, in that raid … we were almost flattened ourselves, thanks to Lucius's foolish rash acts, but I got us all out of that scrape.

But I am most proud of defeating the Prewett twins. Gideon and Fabian had been hampering our missions for a long time, and the Dark Lord was more proud of me than words can express when he heard of the good news. That night, I was rewarded beyond my wildest dreams…

It seemed unreal, what was happening. The Dark Lord was steadily gaining power, the Ministry of Magic and the Order of the Phoenix hopelessly attempting, yet failing, to defeat us. My name became known worldwide, spoken of with terror, fright, fear … it truly was wonderful. I was finally receiving the respect I, as a member of the House of Black, truly deserved.

It was, however, turning into a completely different story for my sister Narcissa. She had reached the point whereby she was trapped, ensnared in Lucius's home, with nowhere to turn, nowhere to run to, nothing to do but nurse Lucius's heir.

It was falling in love with Lucius that did it. Love? Ha! Pathetic. Narcissa always was the dreamy type, though. She was betrothed to Lucius, for the same reasons that I was to Rodolphus, but _she_ kidded herself into believing they were marrying for love, the fool. She was never branded; never became a _proper_ Death Eater. Instead, she was left to become a housewife, with nothing to do but nurse Lucius's heir and act his slave, deprived of the thrills of being a proper Death Eater. How could anyone enjoy that kind of life?

I often told her where she had gone wrong in life, that she should not be so meek, she should stand up to Lucius and fulfil her own dreams, become a Death Eater, fight like I did. She refused, declaring that she _was_ fulfilling her dreams. She was married to the man of her dreams, was very much in love and had a beautiful son with him. There was nothing more that she desired in life; she was perfectly content with staying at home.

What a load of Gryffindor tosh.

From what I'd heard, Andromeda had, by this time, married that Tonks fool, despite her betrothment to Antonin Dolohov. She had even had a daughter with the Mudblood … well, that was her name off the family tree. She never joined the Order of the Phoenix, though, which surprised me … I had expected that she would.

But despite all I'd been through in my life, nothing could have prepared me for that Halloween. The thirty-first of October, 1981.

I received word of the Dark Lord's defeat by a mere child from Lucius. I refused to believe it at first, but it soon became clear that it was the truth.

Death Eaters were being arrested, left, right and centre. Dolohov, Travers and Rookwood were three of them. I was one of the few Death Eaters who successfully evaded capture and imprisonment in the immediate aftermath of the Dark Lord's fall.

Many more of the Dark Lord's supporters fled, or claimed that they had never supported him. Lucius was one of them. Pathetic, back-stabbing wimps. I was dying to hunt them down and torture them for betraying the Dark Lord.

But I had other business to see to.

Rodolphus and I knew that the Dark Lord had been hunting down the Longbottoms at the same time as the Potters. He had obviously viewed the two families as threats, and wanted to kill them before they ruined him - perfectly understandable; the Potters and Longbottoms both were always wimpy mudblood lovers - the Evans wench was a Mudblood herself.

To put it bluntly, it was obvious that the Longbottoms knew what had happened to the Dark Lord, where he was now, and how to bring him back. He was not dead, he was not gone forever, it was impossible. The Dark Lord was invincible; he could not have been killed by a mere half-blood!

Rabastan and Barty Crouch joined Rodolphus and me in hunting down Frank and Alice Longbottom. We were the only ones willing to actually _do_ something to aid the Dark Lord.

We never intended to torture the Longbottoms into insanity … not that it was much of a tragedy that we did. We had only meant to torture them until they gave us some worthy information. Of course, the idiots refused to say anything, so we continued … and we drove them too far. Well, they were useless after that; they weren't going to be able to tell us anything. So we figured we'd just leave them and go.

And then, horror of horrors … the Aurors arrested us.

I was not afraid of being charged and sent to Azkaban. I was not a traitor. I was proud to admit to have been a devoted supporter of the Dark Lord's, and more than willing to go to Azkaban; it merely proved how important and devoted a supporter I had been. I stated this in my trial. No, I was ashamed of myself, for allowing myself to have been arrested in the first place. I was Bellatrix Black, the Dark Lord's most important follower. I was invincible, untouchable, undefeatable … yet they had caught me. I was only ashamed of my lack of security, which had led me straight into the Aurors' arms.

Azkaban was infamous. We had all heard dreadful stories about it - about the cold, miserable atmosphere that the Dementors caused, about the misery, and the people that were driven mad in there.

I was haunted in Azkaban. Haunted by Andromeda's words.

"_I HATE YOU, BELLATRIX BLACK!"_

"_You've really disappointed me, Bellatrix. I never thought you'd sink so low."_

"_I hope you're bloody happy with yourself, Bellatrix, because I most definitely am not."_

I don't remember much of my years in Azkaban. All I remembered were the last three things Andromeda said to me, repeated over and over again.

There wasn't really that much to do in Azkaban, believe it or not … sitting on the cell floor, counting the number of days I'd been in there using the tally I'd marked on my wall was my favourite pastime.

5206 days, I was in that prison for. Fourteen years and three months. I never once lost faith in the Dark Lord. I knew that one day he would come and rescue me…

That day was one of the happiest of my life. Being able to feel the wind and rain on my face … to smell the grass and trees … to forget Andromeda's words forever…

Now, I was free again, to serve the Dark Lord as he rose to power once more.

My first task was to await Potter's presence at the Department of Mysteries in June that year, along with eleven other Death Eaters. Lucius was, for some reason unknown to me, appointed as leader. I often wondered why I wasn't awarded with this position. I would have done a much better job than Lucius, who completely bungled things up. By the end of the night, Rodolphus, Rabastan, Dolohov, Rookwood, Mulciber and Jugson found themselves back in Azkaban, with Lucius, Nott, Crabbe, Macnair and Avery, all unable to worm their way out of this, joining them. I was the only Death Eater skilled enough to evade capture. I even succeeded in killing my good-for-nothing cousin along the way, to my delight. Potter's reaction was more than worth it … watching him attempt to cast the Cruciatus curse was especially amusing.

The Dark Lord then assigned young Draco to kill that old fool, Dumbledore. Needless to say, I was rather shocked at first, until it became apparent that it was merely to punish Lucius for his complete failure. Narcissa, however, did not take this mission at all well, and, to my fury, sought out Severus Snape's advice and comfort. _Snape_? I ask you … why not ask _me_ to do something about it? The Dark Lord would have heard me out, I was, especially after the Battle at the Department of Mysteries, his most loyal and devoted supporter! But no, Cissy went crawling off to Snape, the _last_ person I would have trusted with anything. Where was the proof that he was ever loyal to the Dark Lord? And then, fool of all fools, to top it all off, Narcissa forced Snape to make an Unbreakable Vow. Well, I guess his willingness was proof that he might not have been quite the double-crosser I had thought him to be, but that was still not proof enough.

For the rest of that year and the first half of the next, the Dark Lord was remarkably quiet. Now his return had been publicly acknowledged and most of his Death Eaters were in Azkaban, all he had left to do was sit and wait for Draco (or Snape, as it turned out) to kill Dumbledore. Until then, he could do nothing else.

Finally, in June of that year, Snape succeeded in doing what Draco had been unable to, and the Dark Lord was able to make his move. With the Dementors on his side, we broke the rest of the Death Eaters - all those imprisoned the year before, along with those that hadn't been broken out when I had, such as Travers - from Azkaban, attempted to hijack Potter on his way to a safe-house - as a result of that, Alastor Moody was killed - and took over the Ministry, taking down Scrimgeour on the way.

For the next few months, I was kept busy. One of my proudest moments was the murder of Ted Tonks, that filthy mudblood who had tainted our family tree.

There was, however, a split second where Andromeda's face appeared in my head … and yet again, I remembered her words … she looked and sounded so disappointed … and it hit me, what I had done … I had killed the man my sister loved…

But then, that moment was gone. I didn't care about Andromeda any more, why should her reaction to her husband's death bother me?

And then came that day … the day when the Dark Lord called all the Death Eaters to Hogwarts. We were to fight to kill. And Merlin, did I step up to that challenge.

It was brilliant. Not long into the battle, I murdered my _darling_ niece, Nymphadora, as she was crying over the body of her _dearly beloved_ dead husband, that good-for-nothing werewolf Lupin, who finally got what he deserved for tainting my cousin's mind.

Just as I was getting into the swing of things, the Dark Lord called us all back. We were to go into the forest, he said, and await the appearance of Potter. He would appear, he said … Potter's weakness always was love … he never did like people dying for him…

Sure enough, he arrived. And the Dark Lord killed him. For the boy nicknamed the 'Chosen One', he didn't exactly fight for his life…

We confronted the survivors left at Hogwarts. They should have bowed down to us, the filthy blood traitors … but they didn't. So, as a punishment, we carried on fighting, the Dark Lord joining us … he was enraged at the death of his snake, Nagini … that Longbottom idiot beheaded the creature. The Dark Lord always was fond of her…

I was soon duelling the mudblood Granger and the blood traitors Lovegood and the Weasley girl - all three at once, of course. They were nothing compared to me and my skill…

But then, my Killing curse narrowly avoided the Weasley girl, and Merlin, did that enrage Prewett. The death of her _darling_ Freddie was obviously still sore … and before I knew, her curse had struck me.

I do not regret being killed. For I know that I have died for the Greater Good … fighting beside my Lord, for what is right…

I wonder if Andromeda cares about my death.

She probably doesn't. I killed her worthless husband and daughter, after all…

Why do I even care?

After all, I have nothing to worry about now. For I know, deep in my heart, that I will be rewarded by the Dark Lord beyond anything I have ever imagined in my wildest dreams … and I shall be by his side forevermore. For, when I received the Dark Mark, I pledged my allegiance to the Dark Lord forever, and even in death, my support for the Dark Lord shall not waver. I shall remain by his side forever, and I shall always be remembered, as the Dark Lord's most loyal, trusted and beloved supporter, Bellatrix Black Lestrange.


	2. Grey

_**Grey: Andromeda's Story**_

"Gran?"

"Yes, honey?" I replied, putting my book down on the table beside me.

Teddy nervously walked across the room to me. As he approached, I noticed that he was clutching something in his hand.

"Who are they?"

As he asked the question, he held out the old, tattered, moving photograph. I took it from him gently and examined it.

"Merlin…" I breathed.

"Who are they, Gran? They both look like you … are you one of them?"

My eyes remained fixed on the two young girls in the photograph, one with jet black hair, the other's brown. Both had heavily lidded eyes, though the black-haired girl's were more so, and both wore posh dresses. They smiled primly at me.

"Where did you find this?" I whispered softly.

"In the photo album," he replied. "I was looking through it, and that photo fell out."

I sighed heavily.

"Sit down, Teddy," I said, patting my lap.

"Aren't I getting a bit too old for that, Gran? Harry says I am. He says ten-year-olds shouldn't sit on people's laps."

"Ah, but Harry has kids of his own that you need to share his lap with. Besides, you're never too old to sit on your Gran's lap, are you?"

He grinned, a grin identical to that of his mother, Nymphadora, as he scrambled up onto my lap. I wrapped an arm round his waist, the other - the hand with the photograph - coming round in front of him.

"This is me," I said, pointing to the brunette. "And this is my older sister, Bellatrix."

He frowned up at me.

"You never told me you had a sister."

"I had two," I said, smiling sadly.

"Had?"

"Only one of them is still alive. There were the three of us - Bellatrix, me and Narcissa."

"Why didn't you tell me about them before, Gran?"

I sighed again - how could you have this deep a conversation with a ten-year-old?

"Not all people are good people, Teddy. You know that, don't you?"

He nodded.

"The people that killed my parents were bad people," he said. "And Vo - Vodl - Vole-"

"Voldemort," I supplied. "My parents were bad people, too, Teddy. Most of my family were. They believed that Muggles and Muggleborns were nasty people."

"But they're not!" he cried. "Grandpa was a nice person. You said he was! I was named after him!"

"Yes, he was a wonderful person." I smiled sadly at the thought of my late husband.

"And Hermione, she's a Muggleborn too!"

"Yes, and she's a good person, isn't she?"

He nodded avidly.

"But some people didn't believe that, back then, you see. Purebloods, most of them were - we've told you about them too, Harry and I, haven't we?"

He nodded again.

"And half-bloods," he added. "Harry's a half-blood. Ron and Ginny are purebloods."

"Yes, they are," I said. "Now, lots of purebloods and some half-bloods didn't like Muggles, because Muggles don't have magic powers, and that made some people think they were less important. Muggle-borns were thought to have stolen their magic from witches and wizards. Remember we told you that?"

He frowned.

"That's stupid," he said, as he did every time he was told about the blood prejudice which had once existed. "Anyone can have magic powers. And why would half-bloods hate Muggles and Muggleborns, when they have muggle blood too?"

"Because they're silly," I reminded him. "My family taught me us that Muggles and Muggleborns were nasty people. They taught us not to become friends with them, or even talk to them. We were told we were more important than they were and that, when we were old enough, we had to join Voldemort."

Teddy frowned.

"But you didn't - did you?" His voice now contained some uncertainty. "You married a Muggleborn, Gran. You can't have joined Vole-"

"Voldemort, sweetie. And no, I didn't. But there was a time, when I was little, that I believed what my parents told me."

His jaw dropped.

"Bellatrix was my best friend when I was little. I loved her very much."

I smiled fondly, as memories I had shut out for so many years filtered back.

"What about your other sister?"

"Narcissa was always the quiet type. Bellatrix and I were much louder. I was old for my age, so she seemed much younger than she was. Narcissa and I only became closer when Bellatrix started Hogwarts and I had nobody else. Bellatrix still wrote to me, of course; once a week for her first two years. She was in Slytherin, as we'd expected and she seemed to have a great time. I couldn't wait to go.

"My turn came when she was going into her Third Year. I was put into Slytherin, too-"

"No way!"

Teddy's jaw dropped.

"Ron told me I'd be disowned if I was ever sorted there!"

"Well, don't you listen to him, Teddy," I said sternly. "There's nothing wrong with any of the Hogwarts houses. I'd be proud if you ended up in Slytherin."

He frowned again.

"What if I wasn't?"

"I'll be proud of you no matter what house you're in, Teddy," I told him, kissing his cheek.

"Carry on with the story," he insisted, wiping his cheek. I laughed.

"At first, she was proud of me, because I made friends with lots of Slytherin purebloods, the people I was meant to be friends with. But then, in Third Year, I met your grandfather in Herbology."

_I was leaning over to grab a Puffapod when suddenly someone bumped into me. I let out a cry and dropped the pod, which burst into flower, as a result._

"_Miss Black, be more careful, please!" Professor Sprout called out._

"_Sorry about that," an unfamiliar male voice said._

_I turned round, opening my mouth to unleash my fury on the idiot who had made me drop the pod - but no words came out._

_A tall handsome boy smirked cheekily at me._

"_Ted Tonks," he said, extending a hand to me._

_I faltered as my eyes fell on the Gryffindor shield emblazoned on his robes._

"_I'm-"_

"_Andromeda Black, I know," he grinned. "Slytherin, of course. Where else would the sister of Bellatrix Black be?"_

_I smiled weakly._

"_Dromeda, hurry up!"_

_Alia Rosier forced her way past to face me._

"_Stop wasting your time on this mudblood filth, Dromeda. We should be getting to work."_

"I was very confused about that," I continued to Teddy now. "Gryffindors and Slytherins never talked to each other, you see, so I was wondering why he talked to me."

"But you married him," he reminded me again.

"You're getting too far ahead, now."

"Did you talk to him again?"

I laughed.

"Of course I did, Teddy. I married him, didn't I? Yes, he talked to me again a few weeks later…"

"_Morning, Andromeda."_

_I turned my head and saw him sitting down beside me. It was a cold Saturday morning so most people were inside._

"_Hi," I replied quietly, turning towards the lake._

"_Any reason why you've been ignoring me?"_

_My gaze remained fixed on the lake._

"_I don't know what you're talking about."_

_My voice was cold enough to rival the spiteful breeze that whipped my hair into my face._

"_Yes, you do," he continued. "I've been trying to get your attention in lessons, in the corridors, in the Great Hall, and you've been blanking me. I don't like being ignored, Andromeda."_

"_Well, maybe I don't like talking to Mudblood Gryffindors."_

_But there was no truth in my voice. He seemed to sense that._

"_You're just following your sister's orders-"_

"_They're not Bella's orders-"_

_I closed my mouth abruptly but I'd said too much._

_He raised an eyebrow._

"_So whose orders are they?"_

"_Who ordered me to keep away from Gryffindors like you? How do you know I'm not doing it of my own accord-"_

"_If you were, you wouldn't have placed so much emphasis on the fact that they're not your _sister's _orders. Someone's told you to avoid Mudbloods like me-"_

"_Don't call yourself that."_

"_Excuse me?"_

_I turned to face him, eyes flashing._

"_I said, don't call yourself that!"_

"_Why not? You do."_

_He was smirking again._

"_Because … you shouldn't call yourself a Mudblood."_

"_Why not? Is it because it's your job, not mine? And you still haven't told me whose orders you're following. Your parents', I assume. I've heard all about the Black family."_

_I pursed my lips, my eyes still boring into his._

"_I hardly think it's any of your business."_

_I turned to walk off._

"_Wait!"_

_He jumped to his feet and grabbed my wrist, spinning me back round to face him._

"_What do you want, Tonks?" I demanded, breathing heavily. "I've told you, I don't want to talk to you. Leave me alone."_

"_But _why_ don't you want to talk to me?"_

_He paused for a moment._

"_You're not like Bellatrix. I've been watching you-"_

"_Oh, so now I have a stalker, do I?"_

"_-and you're not like her. She makes her own path, and you let her make yours, too. Much as you may hate to hear it, Andromeda, you can't let her do that. You've got the right to do what you want, and you shouldn't let anyone make you think otherwise."_

_I pulled my wrist from his grip._

"_I'm not Narcissa." I glared at him._

"_I know you're not," he replied. "But you're not Bellatrix either, so stop acting like her. Be yourself. Don't let anyone dictate your life. There's no difference between you and me. Just because you're a pureblood and I'm a Muggleborn doesn't make me something you can walk over. I just hope in time you'll come to see that."_

_He paused again._

"_Anything else you'd like to say to me?" I said sweetly, hiding my fury, although the shake in my voice may have given me away._

"_I'd like to get to know you better, Andromeda Black. You intrigue me." He smiled. "See you round, Andromeda."_

_And then he was gone._

"_What are you doing, talking to filth like that?"_

_Bellatrix had come up behind me._

"_I - I don't know," I replied vaguely, as I watched him retreat._

"_Don't talk to him again," she ordered._

_I opened my mouth to tell her I wouldn't. Then I faltered. Hadn't Ted just accused me of following Bellatrix? I'd argued with him, denied it, yet now, here I was, meekly agreeing with her. What was I to do?_

"What did he say to you?" Teddy asked. "Did he ask you to marry him?"

I laughed yet again.

"Oh, darling, he didn't do that until long after we'd left Hogwarts," I said fondly. "Let me tell the story.

"He told me that he wanted to get to know me. He said I shouldn't always obey my family, but that I should do what I wanted to."

"And what _did _you want to do?"

"At the time, I didn't know. You see, I'd been doing as I was told for so long that I never thought about what I wanted. I thought about it for a few weeks, and then made my mind up…"

_Ten o'clock that Saturday found me darting nervously in and out of the shadows formed by the lights upon the corridor walls. I donned a cloak with a hood that covered my face._

_My eyes lit up as I turned the final corner and saw my destination. I almost ran up to the portrait of the Fat Lady and rapped my knuckles on it sharply._

_After a moment or so, the portrait swung open, and a girl poked her head round the gap. It took me a few seconds to realise that it was Emmeline Vance, one of Ted's friends._

"_Is Ted Tonks in there?" I asked nervously._

_She frowned, and peered at my face._

"_He is, yes," she replied slowly._

"_Can you get him, please?"_

_She surveyed me, leaning against the frame._

"_Who are you?"_

"_What is it, Emmy? Who's there?"_

_That was Ted's voice._

_Emmeline looked around._

"_Someone asking for you."_

_The portrait swung open and Ted appeared._

"_What do you want?" he asked me, frowning at my hooded figure._

_I raised my arms and pushed the hood back. Emmeline gasped but Ted merely raised his eyebrows._

"_Change of heart, hmm?" he said airily, stepping through the portrait hole. He turned back to Emmeline. "I'll be back soon," he said. "If I'm not back by morning, Black here has probably done me in."_

_A slight smile appeared her face, before she shut the portrait._

"_So, what do you want?" He crossed his arms._

"_I want to talk to you," _

"_That much is obvious. What about?"_

"_Can … can we go somewhere more private?"_

"_I know just the place."_

_Without warning, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me along the corridor. I yelped, and tried to snatch my arm back._

"_I can walk of my own accord," I snapped._

_He let go of my wrist, and I stopped for a moment, but he continued walking. I sped up to walk alongside him and pulled my hood back up._

"_Don't want to be seen with me?" he said coolly. "Nice to know where I stand."_

"_If Bella sees me, she'll murder me," I pointed out._

"_If you wanted to talk to me that badly, you wouldn't care about Bellatrix's reaction."_

_I scowled, but didn't reply._

"_Where are we going?" I asked after a slight pause._

"_Somewhere private, as you requested."_

_He came to a halt in the middle of one of the seventh floor corridors, beside the tapestry showing Barnabas the Barmy attempting to teach trolls to dance the ballet._

"_What are you doing?" I asked cuttingly, as he began walking backwards and forwards beside the opposite wall._

"_Finding somewhere private," he said. _

_As he paced up and down for a third time, a doorknob appeared in the middle of the wall, followed by the door it belonged to. My breath caught in my throat as he twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open, revealing a small room with two armchairs._

"_After you, my lady."_

_He bowed and ushered me into the room. I pushed my hood down and unbuttoned my cloak, shrugging it off, before gingerly lowering myself into one of the chairs. He closed the door behind him, and threw himself into the other._

"_So, what do you want to talk about?"_

_I hesitated._

"_I've been thinking about what you said the other week," I began. "You know, by the lake."_

_He nodded._

"_As much as I hate to say this, you're right," I confessed. "My beliefs, my actions … they're based on my upbringing. I've never so much as considered making friends with any non-pureblood, or even giving them the time of day, just because my parents have told me not to. And Bella's wrath is something to be scared of, too," I added, managing to get a chuckle out of him._

"_But I'm fourteen now, and more than old enough to make my own decisions. You don't seem any different from any pureblood, apart from in your beliefs. And because of that, I … I'd like to get to know you more. And your friends. I'd love to get to know them too. I've been watching you, and you all seem very nice."_

_He raised his eyebrows._

"_You just said that you didn't want to be seen with me."_

_I hesitated._

"_Well … I don't want Bella to know what I'm doing-"_

"_So you've not really changed, then."_

_He rose to his feet, and began pacing in front of his chair._

"_You're still scared of her, still determined to let her think you're obeying her. You just want to try and prove you're not weak, and you're not just doing as she says."_

"_No!" I protested, getting to my own feet. "I'm telling the truth-"_

"_Prove it."_

"_What?"_

"_Prove you're telling the truth."_

_The expression in his eyes was unreadable._

"_How?" I asked weakly._

"_I don't know. Think of something," he challenged me. "I'm not becoming friends with you just because you want to prove me wrong-"_

"_I _want_ to be friends with you!" I cried desperately._

"_Do it openly, then!" he insisted. "If you want to change your ways and be friends with me and my mates, do it openly! That's how you can prove it!"_

_I hesitated._

"_I can't do that," I said quietly._

"_Well, then, our business here is done."_

_He made as if to leave the room._

"_Wait!"_

_He froze._

_I drew a shuddering breath._

"_I'll do it," I said. "I'll become friends with you openly. I - I won't hide from Bellatrix."_

_He looked at me, and nodded approvingly._

"_I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast, Andromeda," he said._

_And then he was gone._

_I let out my breath slowly, as I realised what I had done. Those three words had estranged me from my family forever. I was no longer a Black sister. I was a traitor._

"What did you say?"

Teddy was bouncing excitedly on my lap, thoroughly engrossed in the story.

"I told him I wanted to be friends with him," I replied. "And with his friends."

"What did he say?"

"Yes, of course. Bellatrix wasn't happy with me, though. She didn't say anything at first, to my surprise … I think she expected me to ditch them of my own accord.

"You'll like this bit of the story, Teddy. We're getting towards the end of my Third Year now."

"What happened?"

The smile returned to my face.

"_Fancy going for a walk?"_

_It was late one night. Emmeline and the other Gryffindor Third Years had just been kicked out of the library, and Ted and I had been ordered to stay behind to help Madam Pince tidy up._

"_Where?"_

"_Outside," he replied, smirking._

"_Out of bounds?"_

"_I'm a Gryffindor," he pointed out._

_I rolled my eyes._

"_And you're a Slytherin. You can't say Slytherins abide by the rules."_

"_They don't usually hang out with Gryffindors either," I pointed out._

"_You're the exception, my dear." He grinned. "So is that a yes?"_

_I sighed in exasperation._

"_I suppose I can't argue," I said. "But if we get locked out-"_

"_We won't."_

"_How can you say that?" I asked him._

"_Just trust me."_

_We strolled through the rose beds together._

"_The lake looks beautiful," I breathed, as I looked across at the water, which seemed to glisten in the moonlight._

"_So do you," he murmured, as he came to a stop beside me._

_I turned my head to look at him and bit my lip nervously. Not for the first time, my heart began thumping rapidly as my eyes fell on his good-looking features._

_Our eyes met, and he raised his hand to stroke my cheek, stepping closer to me._

"_Dromeda," he whispered softly, as my arms snaked round his neck, "can I kiss you?"_

"_Yes," I replied, my heart leaping._

_My eyelids flittered shut as he slowly lowered his head, and, after what seemed like an age, his soft lips met mine._

_It was as though fireworks were exploding inside me. His hands found my waist and he pulled me closer, deepening the kiss. The moment seemed to last forever, and, for the first time since I had become friends with Ted, I didn't care about what Bellatrix would say. Because in Ted, I had found true happiness._

"You _kissed_?"

Teddy crinkled his nose in disgust.

I laughed at his reaction.

"Oh, you won't be saying that in a few years, Teddy," I told him, flicking his nose lightly. "Ted asked me to go out with him that night, as well. So, we're getting a bit closer to when he asked me to marry him."

"What did Bellatrix say?"

"Oh, she wasn't at all happy when she found out. That was when she realised that I genuinely wanted to be friends with them, I think. Beforehand, she thought I was just using them."

"Was she angry with you, then?"

"Oh, very."

"_DROMEDA!"_

_I sighed in exasperation._

"_What do you want, Bella?"_

_She stormed up to me._

"_You're hanging out with Gryffindors," she said, glaring at me._

"_You're clever," I replied sarcastically, rolling my eyes._

"_What are you doing, consorting with such blood traitor filth?"_

"_Don't call them that! They're nice people, Bella!"_

"_Nice? _Nice_? They're disgusting, unworthy, filthy blood traitors and Mudbloods! The Black family never consorts with people like them! They're not even worthy of our glare upon them, let alone your friendship! Ditch them now, Dromeda. They're not good for you-"_

"_Oh, stop talking about things you don't know about, Bellatrix. There's no difference between them and me. Just keep out of my business."_

"That was it, after that. Our relationship had changed. I disliked her, and she disliked me."

"What about Narcissa?"

"She didn't like me after that either. She was following Bellatrix, though, so I'm not sure if it was her own opinion or not."

He frowned.

"It all sounds stupid," he declared. "Why can't you just think what you want to?"

"It was an old belief, Teddy. It's not around now, though. Most people have realised that we are all equal, thanks to Harry defeating Voldemort."

"Carry on with the story," he insisted, seeming to forget that it was his question that had steered us off-track. "I want to know what Bellatrix did."

"Don't be so impatient," I scolded light-heartedly.

"_Morning, guys," I said brightly, sitting down next to Ted at the Gryffindor table, as usual._

_No one replied._

"_I said, morning," I repeated, a bit louder._

_Again, there was no reaction, apart from Ted shuffling slightly further away from me on the bench._

"_What's wrong with you?" I asked in frustration. "Why are you ignoring me?"_

_Emmeline glared at me._

"_More like, what's wrong with you?" she spat. "Pretending to make friends with us, pretending to be interested in Ted, just to get your sister to dump him, for you. Just to hurt him, I suppose."_

"_WHAT?" I cried. "Which sister?"_

"_Bellatrix," she replied, looking at me as if I was dirt._

_My blood boiled inside me, and I rose to my feet, storming over to the Slytherin table,without caring about what anyone thought._

"_BELLATRIX!" I yelled._

"_Andromeda, darling," she sneered. "What can I do for you-"_

"_What did you do?" I screamed at her._

"_What do you mean?" Her voice was sickly sweet._

"_Emmeline is of the opinion that you dumped Ted on my behalf!"_

_Bellatrix's glanced at the Gryffindor table, before looking back up at me._

"_So what if I did?" she asked coolly. "He's a mudblood Gryffindor anyway-"_

"_He's better than you could ever hope of being," I hissed angrily._

"_Oh, perlease, Andromeda, you can do way better than mudbloods and blood traitors-"_

_I snapped._

"_I HATE YOU, BELLATRIX BLACK!" I screamed, and ran out of the Great Hall._

"Did you get back together with him?" Teddy asked.

"Of course," I smiled. "We talked things through, and I told him what had happened. He believed me. My argument with Bellatrix seemed to give it away. The others were harder to persuade, but they soon forgave me, too.

"We all went to Emmeline's for the summer, so I avoided my parents. After that, Bellatrix and Narcissa both ignored me. They pretended that they didn't know me. They didn't want to have a thing to do with me any more.

I went home, though, at the end of my Fourth Year. That was when Bellatrix joined Voldemort."

"Did she tell you?"

"Oh, yes. I think she was trying to persuade me to come back to the Dark side, you see. She thought I'd be happy, but I wasn't. I told her that I was disappointed with her."

"Did you talk to her ever again after that?"

"Oh, yes. On her last day of school. I was in Fifth Year at that point. She was about to leave to serve Voldemort and I told her how I felt about her servitude…"

"_You've really disappointed me, Bellatrix. I never thought you'd sink so low."_

"…and that was the last time I ever saw her."

"What happened after that?"

"She made a name for herself as a Death Eater and her name became feared in all households. She married Rodolphus Lestrange. It was an arranged marriage. She killed many of my close friends while she was at her height of power.

"Your grandfather and I got married not long after we left school and I was blasted off the family tree by my Aunt Walburga. We had your mother not long afterwards.

"Narcissa married Lucius Malfoy. That was also an arranged marriage. She never joined Voldemort, but she still supported his ideals.

"And then Voldemort was supposedly defeated by young Harry. You already know what happened to the Death Eaters, so I won't go into great detail. Bellatrix, Rololphus, his brother and another man, Bartemius Crouch junior, were the people who tortured Alice and Frank Longbottom. We've visited them, remember…?"

His eyes widened.

"Your sister did that?" he said, in amazement.

"She did, yes," I said sadly. "But then, they were caught and sent to Azkaban. After Voldemort returned, though, he broke her out, along with a few others. She then killed Sirius-"

"_She_ killed him?" If his eyes weren't wide beforehand, they certainly were now.

"Yes, she did."

My heart sank, as I remembered my favourite cousin.

"You never told me that!" he said indignantly.

"You never asked," I pointed out. "A couple of years later, she was the one to kill your grandfather, too-"

"What?"

He was shocked.

"Why did she kill him?" he asked. "You were her sister!"

"I stopped being her sister the day I made friends with your grandfather, Teddy," I reminded him gently. "And I think the time is right to tell you that my sister Bellatrix was the person who killed your mother."

His eyes filled with tears.

"She killed her own niece?" he whispered incredulously.

My own eyes filled with tears as I wrapped my arms around him.

"Blood isn't everything, Teddy," I reminded him softly, stroking his head. "Your true family are the people that love you, that care about you and have your best interests at heart. Bellatrix and Narcissa stopped being my sisters the moment they stopped loving me and caring about me. My real family consisted of Ted, Emmeline and the rest of the Gryffindors in my year, and now consists of you, Harry and his family and all of the Weasleys. Your mum knew who her aunties were, but never thought of either of them as family. She saw Emmeline as her Aunt. You see, Teddy? Just because my blood ran through Bellatrix's veins, didn't mean I saw her as family. Emmeline was my sister more than Bellatrix. Does that make sense?"

He nodded.

"James, Al and Lily are like my brothers and sister," he said. "And Harry's a bit like my dad and Ginny's like my mum. I know they're not my mum and dad, and they will never replace them, but they're like my second mum and dad."

I smiled fondly.

"Just as they should be," I told him, kissing his forehead gently. "And what about me?"

"You're my Gran," he said, snuggling into my shoulder. "And you're the best Gran in the world."

I hugged him back and the photograph floated to the floor. I watched it and smiled. As it reached the floor, I knew that, like the photograph, my memories of Bellatrix could finally be laid to rest.


	3. White

_A/N: Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own the characters in this chapter. Towards the end of the chapter are 2 lines lifted from Deathly Hallows, from the chapter "The Flaw in the Plan", so I don't own those either._

_Huge apologies for the 3 1/2 year long wait for this too..._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

She stares into the flames, yet does not see them. She draws a slow, shuddering breath, willing herself to remain calm, for hysterics will not help her.

Her reflection in the mirror in the corner of the room catches her eye; her lip curls as she examines her pureblood features; the high, prominent cheekbones, the air of superiority and aristocracy, a touch of haughtiness added in for good measure.

But what good is this superiority, what use these high cheekbones, if one has to rely on others to ensure one's future? She hardly warrants her family name, she is hardly demonstrating the self-pride that comes with it.

Then again, the name has been sullied, so much that it barely holds weight any longer. Isn't this why she is relying on others to act for her?

And all because of love, and its wicked ways. How it causes havoc with the world.

She is not supposed to be capable of love. No pureblood is. No _proper_ pureblood, at any rate, the blood traitors would have one believe differently on that matter.

But then again, are _they_ not the proper purebloods now? They, who are so willing to sacrifice their _lives_ for what they believe in, something which none of her family or those like it have ever been truly willing to do.

She supposes that is due to the whole love business again. After all, she knows she is prepared to sacrifice everything she has for her husband and son; has she not already proved that? Maybe she is making the transition from being a "proper" pureblood to being a true one, one worthy of that honour – if it is even an honour any more.

Her thoughts, having touched on her husband, focus in on him. She is worried about him. He has not been well at all recently. He has taken their fall in social status harder than she; she knows that all too well. He dislikes having to rely on family foes to help them. She knows that, but it is all they can do now.

And so she waits.

* * *

Her hands shake. She sinks into the chair, hiding her face with them.

How can it have come to _this_? Their family, so well-known, well respected, reduced to this? They do not bow to anyone, they stand on their own two feet, lead their own lives-

_Do you_? asks a voice in her head. _Or have you always blindly followed, doing what is expected of you, and not what you feel is right?_

No, she tells herself, no, it has never been like this before-

_Oh, but it has. You just never noticed. Given enough space to think you are acting as per your will, reined in just enough to ensure you don't get out of hand. You only notice now you have lost your honour and standing._

She doesn't want to believe it. How can she? She is a proud, powerful woman, who has always done as _she _sees fit-

_And an arranged marriage fits into this equation ... how?_

That is different, she reasons. All good purebloods have arranged marriages. After all, marriages aren't for _love_, they are for increased social standing.

And why is she arguing with herself?

_Times are changing. You know that. The pendulum of power has swung, away from you. Once you had the admiration, the respect, the power, the leverage to do whatever you wished, to gain whatever you desired. Now, you have a husband in Azkaban, and a son commanded to kill the most powerful wizard there is – for he still has that crown, there is no denying that – and you have lost that respect. You cannot continue on this path forever. Nothing good will come of it. You are of no use to the Dark Lord. Neither is your husband. Your son is perceived to be weak, and if he cannot disprove that, he will be regarded as useless too. And then what will you do?_

She bites her lip, head still in hands. She _knows_ her son cannot kill Dumbledore. She knows that the Dark Lord knows this. It is revenge, that is all; revenge on poor Lucius for being captured. He has become the scapegoat for the failure in the Ministry. The Dark Lord rejoices in seeing them suffer, she can tell.

But what is there to do? They cannot _leave_ him. She is not directly in his service, but Lucius and Draco are, and to defy him means instant death. They cannot turn to Dumbledore, that filthy muggle-loving idiot.

There is no option. She knows this. They have to stay. Stay, and be extra vigilant.

But her son needs help. There is no chance that he can succeed. And with his naive arrogance blinding him to the fact that the Dark Lord has chosen him not because he believes he can succeed, but because his washed-up father lies in Azkaban, he will not listen to her, his over-protective mother.

There are few who will help, she knows that much. While they may have been respected before, few people _liked_ them – genuine like for others is hard to come across in pureblood circles – and now, those who had respected them openly gloat at their downfall. Only her sister still respects them, and even that is only due to them sharing a maiden name. After all, Bella believes that Draco should be _honoured_ to have such a duty, she doesn't see the dangers – or at least, refuses to acknowledge them, for to her, serving the Dark Lord is the ultimate honour, and nothing else matters to her.

But then...

She sits up, staring across the room.

There is one person who still respects them, who will still help her. The Dark Lord will not like her seeking the help of another, but her son's life is more important to her than keeping the Dark Lord happy. After all, he has already kicked them into the ground, what more can he do?

Lucius would not approve of her actions if he knew of them, she knows as she stands. He does not agree with seeking help from others; it suggests weakness, a word which does not stand side-by-side with honour and respect. But right now, she knows of no other option.

She sweeps into the Entrance Hall, taking her cloak off the hook and putting it on herself, not even waiting for a house elf to do so for her.

She needs to find Severus Snape.

* * *

She was wrong.

She has been wrong before, she knows that.

But not as wrong as _this_.

Yes, her husband is out of prison, but he is a shadow of his former self, and no longer regarded as a worthy servant by the Dark Lord. What a fall from grace.

Worse still, he blames his own son for the situation they find themselves in.

"If the _useless_ boy had just cast the bloody curse-"

"Don't call him useless!" she snaps, glaring.

She had once loved Lucius. She had not at first; after all, like all other marriages, theirs had been arranged. But the arrival of their beautiful boy had triggered something in them both; for sixteen blissful, trouble-free years they had both been in love with each other, that she was sure of.

But the bedraggled, wreck of a man who stands before her now is but a shadow of that Lucius.

"If he can't kill the biggest muggle-lover of them all, what hope does he have in the Dark Lord's circle?" he roars back at her. "We have lost _everything_, Narcissa, everything we had! All it needed to restore that was for him to kill Dumbledore, just a simple job, _and he couldn't do it_! And now look at where we are! I didn't raise him to end up failing us!"

She rises to her full height, within inches of his.

"_You_ barely raised him at all," she hisses. "And I'd like to think that when _I_ raised him, I installed in him the respect for others that _you_ yourself lack. If you want to blame anyone for this, blame the Dark Lord himself. He gave Draco this assignment to get revenge on _you_. He knew this would happen, he intended it. And you pushing away your own flesh and blood just plays into his hands. Maybe you should start facing up to your own mistakes, instead of blaming your son."

He stares at her for a moment, eyes void of all emotion, as is the pureblood way. And then, in a drastic show of emotion, so uncharacteristic of him, he falls to the floor, racked in sobs. Her own eyes well up as she remembers the man she once loved, and she sinks down beside him, pulling him into her embrace, rocking him as he cries for all they have lost, all they have suffered, all the bad memories that have haunted him for the past twelve months.

"We have to stick together," she murmurs, stroking his head. "We are Malfoys. We must hold our heads high, show the world that we are not ashamed of who we are."

But she is unsure of how much this will work. The Dark Lord has, after all, already proved to them that there is much, much more that he can do.

* * *

She wraps a hand around her husband's wrist, trying to keep a calm exterior, while inside, her heart is crushed. She knows he has no choice but to follow the Dark Lord's orders. To be rendered wandless, though ... why, the wandless are those they are trying to eradicate, those they believe do not have a place in this world, are they not? And to do such a cruel thing to a _Malfoy_, to one of his most loyal followers...

How the mighty fall.

He knows. He knows they are unhappy. She is almost surprised he has noticed; he is so ruthless, he cares little for his followers ... why notice this?

He will notice dissent within his ranks, though. He will sniff out unhappiness and uncertainty and pounce on it, toying with them, like a lion catching its prey.

She nods, almost mechanically, as her loyalty is questioned, confirming that she still stands with him.

But why does she? What is there to gain, now?

Of course, it is left to Bella, darling Bella, to pick up the pieces, to divert the attention. He still loves her, he will not torment her.

But she assumes. Her shoulders slump slightly as the humiliation continues. She rages silently as the Dark Lord's attention turns to Draco. _He is only a boy ... he does not deserve this_...

She senses fear, desperation from him; he looks to her for comfort. She glances at him and shakes her head the tiniest amount. There is nothing he can do. Nothing any of them can do.

She had once dreamed of the Dark Lord's return. Now, she remembers those dreams, and wishes they had not been. Now, she only dreads; dreads what he is to become, and what is to happen next to them.

* * *

She is shaking again. She always shakes nowadays.

She closes her eyes, trying to calm herself, but that just makes things worse, as her sister's face appears in her mind. She lets out an aggravated scream, grabbing her hair with her hands.

Why does she care? Dromeda _left_ them, turned traitor. She married a muggle-born; surely she should have seen this coming? Surely she deserves it?

_How would you feel if Lucius were killed by the Order? Would you wish that pain on any other woman?_

She squeezes her eyes tight shut, trying to force the voice out of her mind. It is different, she tells herself, Andromeda and she cannot be compared so easily. _She left them_! She has let her daughter marry a werewolf! What self-proud woman _does_ that?

_One who feels no superiority, no bigotry, only love. This is why pureblood families are so prejudiced; because they do not understand love. Your sister has embraced love, and that emotion trumps any other. She was willing to lose her family for the man she loved, because she never truly loved her family, not in the way that normal families love._

But where has that gotten her? She now has no husband, a daughter married to a half-breed-

_But she has been happy and proud. Not in the ways that you think you have been, but truly happy and proud. She is proud to be a Tonks because it means she is her own person, she has made her own choices in live. You are proud to be a Black because of the respect and honour it brings, respect and honour that your ancestors, not you, have gained. You are proud because you have had an easy walk through life, with no need to work for what you want. She is happy because she has loved a man for who he is inside, not for his surname, wealth or social standing. You married for those things, and so you can never truly love in the way she has. And so long as you cannot love in that way, you cannot see why she made the choices she did._

She shakes her head. She _does_ love Lucius for who he is inside, she is sure of that. Why else has she stuck by him for all these years, especially now, when they have no honour left. Only her love for him has kept her beside him, and if _that_ is not true love, she does not know what is.

_Then why are you still here?_

That is a question she cannot answer.

* * *

As usual, Death Eaters swarm about their house as though it is a public area. She curls her lip in distaste at the disregard they give her family. They do not appreciate that she has opened up her house for their use.

Though maybe their appreciation is too much to ask for. After all, allowing the use of their house is all they can do any more in order to remain in the Dark Lord's good books; to expect more is far-fetched.

But then, a way out, a way to gain back the trust of the Dark Lord arrives. Her heart leaps; across the room, Lucius shares her excitement, but in an armchair in the corner of the room, Draco is unwilling. Her heart cries out for him, the broken teenager, still so young, yet having endured so much pain.

She stands by the fireplace, hoping against hope that it is Potter standing in their drawing room. After all this pain, to finally be rewarded for something again ... it is something she craves more than anything else...

But Draco still remains uninterested. She watches as he shrugs, before turning his back on the party, towards her, and she sees the emotion in his eyes. He has given up. He sees no way out.

On the other side of the room, Lucius is of the opposite frame of mind. She holds back, desperate, having come so close to regaining approval, not to throw the chance away. This _is_ what she wants, is it not? Handing Potter to the Dark Lord ... it is all he seeks, all he desires, once that is achieved he can truly rule, with no figurehead to oppose him, and surely, _surely_, the Malfoys will once again be respected in this world?

Her blood rises as her sister shows such disrespect to her son. Does even Bellatrix see no hope for Draco?

But she cannot argue. They may be in her house, but she has no choice but to obey her sister.

_Is this really what you want?_

_

* * *

_

She smashes her hair brush into her mirror in anger.

She had thought they had reached the lowest point they could, that things could not get worse.

And now ... disrespected by her own _sister_, disarmed by her house elf ... and positively hated by the Dark Lord.

Her only consolation is knowing that Bellatrix is suffering from the Dark Lord's wrath just as much as she, that Bellatrix is finally getting a taste of what she has endured for over a year now.

She questions why this gives her such satisfaction. She has always respected Bella, and she had once thought that respect had been returned. Now she can see that it is not. Bella does not care for her sister's plight; all she cares about is her own skin.

That thought fills her with rage.

_You see? Dromeda was right. Sharing blood means nothing, _nothing_, without love to cement that bond. Your sister Bellatrix does not care about you, or Draco. All she cares about is advancing her own interests, and if that means disregarding you, then so be it._

She tries to protest, tries to quash that part of her own mind that does not like to see her disregarded – is it her ego?

_Or your conscience_?

She sinks into her chair, head in her hands.

Perhaps love wasn't Dromeda's downfall, she muses. Perhaps it was her finest hour.

He is missing.

* * *

He had been in the main battle. He has taken her wand, leaving her to fret in the forest. Yet he had not returned at the summons.

So where is he?

He is clearly in trouble; if not, he would not be missing. She had thought he could handle himself. What had happened to him? Is he injured, somewhere in the castle? Or, worse, is he-

But no. She refuses to entertain such a notion. Not now.

Lucius notices her despair; he takes her hand and squeezes it, lovingly, comfortingly. She closes her eyes, savouring his touch. He has, naturally, already tried to find their poor Draco, but the Dark Lord refuses to let anyone leave for the castle. He clearly enjoys their torment.

Her eyes snap open again, falling on the tall sorcerer in question, who is deep in conversation with her sister, Bella. Oh, how ironic, she considers to herself, that Bella, who scorns love so, who denounces its validity, adores their Lord as she does.

How has she not noticed this before?

Bile rises in her throat as she watches her own flesh and blood simper up to the monstrosity that has signed Draco's death warrant. Does Bella not care for her nephew at all?

She wonders why she questions such a thing; she has already proved that Bella gives no thought to anyone other than herself, and how she looks in the Dark Lord's eyes. How fitting, then, that she has failed so at pleasing him of late. Perhaps it is poetic justice.

As she watches, the Dark Lord ends his conversation with Bella. He bows his head, folding his hands over his wand. She feels a ripple of hatred towards him as she observes his passiveness. Her son is in trouble in the castle, how can he not have an ounce of concern?

Of course, she reflects, he does not care for his followers. He never has. That much is bitterly clear to her now.

How desperate she is for Potter's presence at this moment. That, and only that, will give her free rein to search the castle for Draco. She does not care for the Dark Lord, or any of her fellow Death Eaters, aside from her Lucius. She does not care for Potter, or any of the Order. All she cares for is finding Draco, and reuniting her family.

She has finally learned to love, and to love _properly_. She understands how the Dark Lord's inability to love is such a weakness of his. How can he even begin to understand those he fights if he disregards love so?

He does not even understand his followers, she realises. Instead, he torments them, pushes them away, creating anarchy within his own ranks. She sees that now. It has happened to her, has it not?

And yet, despite the lack of respect from others, in an ironic twist of fate, it is only now that she is truly able to respect herself, to be proud of who she is.

She watches the events unfold before her eyes. Hope that the Dark Lord has fallen is replaced by despair as he rises to his feet. Her eyes swing to Potter. All is not lost, she reminds herself, she now has a way to find her son...

_If he is not dead already_.

She is forced forwards. She kneels down before the boy. She feels a pulse, leans over further to shield them with her hair.

"_Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle_?"

An iron hand squeezes her heart as she awaits the answer.

"_Yes_."

The hand lets go. She sits up.

"He is dead!"

She ignores the celebrations around her. All she seeks are Lucius's grey eyes.

_Hold on, Draco. I'll be there soon._

_

* * *

_

"Mother?"

She turns.

He looks just as gaunt as she; pale, thin, worried.

"Draco?" she says tenderly, her heart aching as she regrets, not for the first time, the life she has brought her son up to live.

"I have news," he informs her, crossing the threshold into the room.

"Bad?" Her face falls, as terror swamps her.

A small, pained smile flickers across his face.

"Is it not bad news either way?" He pauses. "We've been pardoned. Po – _he_ attested our innocence. We're free."

Her first emotion is surprise, that an enemy would perform such an act of gratitude after all they have done. That is soon swallowed up by pure joy, however, as she rises from her chair and sweeps across the room to her son, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"Oh, darling," she says, voice shaking with emotion. "We're going to be okay. It's all going to be okay."


End file.
